


Lone

by TheArchaeologist



Category: Roman Mysteries (TV), The Roman Mysteries - Caroline Lawrence
Genre: Family Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, There's literally like two fics on AO3 for this fandom, lol oh well I had fun writing this anyway, mute character, that's all that matters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 11:13:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15290298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArchaeologist/pseuds/TheArchaeologist
Summary: There was storm over Ostia that night, the type that sent young children running to their Mothers and Fathers. But not everybody has parents.





	Lone

There was a storm over Ostia that night.

It was the violent kind, the type that shakes the old timbers of the house and causes the dogs to bark their heads off downstairs, the type that sends ghastly shadows across the room and causes young children to scurry under their covers for shelter. 

Jonathan was not a young child anymore, rather a fourteen-year-old on the cusp of manhood. 

Still, despite that, here he was, standing just beyond his Father’s bedroom door.

He had not gone scuttling to his Father in the dead of night for years, he hadn’t needed to. But there was something about this storm in particular, the way the thunder rolled through the air and the sudden bright flashes, that had made his legs leap from his bed, sweat and panic beading on his brow.

He jumped as another dart of lightning flashes, casting a long, looming shadow down the hallway.

The door to his Father’s room was open a crack, unusual as normally it was firmly shut, and inside Jonathan could just make out the single flame of an oil lamp.

Peering through the crack, he spotted his Father sitting up in bed, dressed in his nightclothes and pushing his hair away from his face. He stared out the window, watching the storm quietly, and although Jonathan could not hear the words he could see his Father’s lips moving as he muttered to himself.

Something on his Father’s face shifted, as if he had come to a decision, and he drew back the bedcovers, climbing out and picking up the oil lamp. 

Jonathan scrambled back from the door, suddenly fearing being caught. It was stupid, he knew, his Father would not tease him for seeking comfort, yet hot embarrassment flushed across his face anyway. 

The corridor was bare, there was nowhere to hide, and even if he ran he would still be caught.

His Father faltered as he crossed his bedroom, and Jonathan stood stock still, believing himself to have been spotted from the flash of lightning through the crack in the door.

But instead of advancing towards him, his Father was kneeling down, facing the opposite direction, and a frown tugged across Jonathan’s face.

“Lupus?” His Father asked softly.

Hidden in the dark, tucked away on the floor at the end of his Father’s bed, was a curled up ball.

Lupus had his knees drawn up to his chest, hands firmly placed over his ears as he stared dead ahead. From the faint glow of Mordecai’s oil lamp, Jonathan could see his cheeks were tear-stained. On any normal day Lupus would be fiercely scrubbing away any evidence of crying, but apparently keeping out the noise was a far more important task tonight.

“Lupus…” His Father says again, looking but not touching. His hands rest on his lap. “The storm?” He asks, although the answer is evident. “Yes, it woke me as well. They can be violent, can’t they?”

Another clap of thunder makes them all flinch, Lupus shutting his eyes tight for a moment. 

“I know they can seem scary, but I promise you that we are safe here.”

Lupus’ eyes flicker to Mordecai, as if to say, ‘sure, you believe what you want’. 

“I was going to read some of my scrolls until the storm passes, would you like me to read them to you? They are not as thrilling as Flavia’s tales I admit, but it’s something to listen to besides the storm.”

Lupus’ face goes through a range of emotions hard to identify in the dark, but it’s clear the boy wants to, only his stubbornness, pride, and unwillingness to show perceived weakness getting in the way. His Father notices too, tilting his head slightly at the display. 

He points to the table. “I have some of my medical notes up here, why don’t we start with those rather than trekking to the library at this time of night?”

Mordecai rises from the floor and crosses the room, selecting a few bound scrolls before returning to his previous position. Holding one up to the oil lamp light, and sparing a quick glance at Lupus, he begins to read.

“The most beneficial herbs to use to bring down the effects of a fever include…”

“Jonathan?” A soft voice directly behind him makes him jump, and he spins to find Miriam standing nearby, her arms wrapped around herself. “What-”

“Shh.” Jonathan puts a finger to his lips, pointing at the crack in the door. Miriam scoots closer, peeking though. Her gaze softens as their Father continues his reading, now sat crossed legged. Lupus still has his hands over his ears, but is now watching Mordecai, his lips moving slightly as he silently copies their Father’s words.

“Poor boy,” Miriam breathes, “When he is with you and Flavia and Nubia, it’s easy to forget he is much younger.”

Jonathan shrugs. “He doesn’t sit still for long enough for you to realise.”

“He should be with his parents,” Miriam mourns, “He should be crawling into their bed for comfort, not cowering on the floor of our Father’s room.”

They stand, watching, listening, for a moment, before Miriam sighs and turns to him.

“Come on,” She offers a hand to Jonathan, “You can stick with me tonight.”

The embarrassment returns. “I wasn’t-”

“Well, _I was_ , but let’s not disturb them. Come on.”

The storm continues until the early hours, but if his Father’s voice was a bit hoarse and Lupus’ eyes a touch red the following morning, then Jonathan decides not to comment.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're reading this, then thank you, and isn't the complete lack of Roman Mysteries fics a shame?


End file.
